The Coworker And Reflections On Lawyering

Everyone should have at least one coworker like The Coworker. He says the oddest, most hilariously uncomfortable, and off-the-wall things. Whenever he speaks, I want to both laugh really hard and sink into my seat under the heavy blanket of embarrassment that he SHOULD but is incapable of feeling. Yesterday, he told his legal assistant to clean the sparkles off her desk because that is where he snorts cocaine after work.

Today we exchanged secret Santa gifts. Our boss was The Coworker's secret Santa and gave him a nice pair of slippers. When he opened them he said, "Wow, someone really knows what I like...before bed." The entire office was howling.

This guy is the same guy who offered to marry me and have my babies after I completed a project for him. Writers for The Office couldn't invent a character like him if they tried. Although he would make a perfect accompaniment to Michael Scott.

He's one of the two people in the office that gives me assignments to complete. I often worry that I'm not getting enough exposure by only working closely with two attorneys. I am still just a temporary employee and my guaranteed six months of work is nearing its end. But these two attorneys keep me pretty busy and they are very happy with my work. I decided that it's much easier to convince two people that I am intelligent than it is to convince an entire office. So, I'll just mark that down as a good thing and hope that due to their seniority, they will be able to convince the management to keep me.

The other day, one attorney spent an hour and a half going over a new assignment with me. At the end he said, "Oh never mind, I'll just do it myself. It's too complicated." I'll admit, it WAS complicated. It was an issue involving a tax lien in a bankruptcy proceeding. And what I knew about bankruptcy could be inscribed by pen onto a single acorn. But I was really bummed that I had just invested 1.5 hours listening to a lecture for no good reason and I was kind of looking forward to the challenge. Then, at the very last minute, the attorney changed his mind. Looking very skeptical, he said, "Go ahead and give it a try. After you get a start, I'll help you complete it."

Aside from my litigation assignments, every project I have been given has absolutely terrified me. I have ZERO background knowledge in any of this government stuff. The big projects I have been given so far have involved, taxing districts, federal HIPAA laws, amending ordinances, and advising law enforcement. In car collision litigation, it's a big deal when you make a mistake. Not only do you let your client down, but you can really impact your client's financial situation. However, this is nothing compared to giving advise to a local government. When the government screws up, it's kind of a big deal.

The projects I have been assigned have been equal parts intense and unfamiliar. These assignments cause my mind to seize with fear every time I am left alone to sit at a computer researching obscure areas of law and drafting opinion letters for a client. But the deathly fear is directly proportional to the satisfaction that arises each time the "complex and confusing" become "organized and understood" in my brain. Being a lawyer is essentially just organizing information and concepts into an easy to understand and helpful (for your client) way. And applying the information and concepts to an actual real-life problem that a client is facing and offering helpful suggestions on what to do next is a lawyer's equivalent to winning the Powerball.

So today, I was excitedly nervous as I handed in my assignment, fully completed, to the attorney. I had just been on a self-confidence roller coaster. One moment, I would decide that he was right and the project was way above my level. The next, I would uncover a clue hidden within a federal statute and feel happy little thrills pulsing through my body. I like to call this phenomenon the Legal Researcher's High (and Low). I held my breath for a moment when I handed in my assignment. I was dying to know if I had met or fallen short of the expectations set out for me. The attorney carefully reviewed my memo, expressed a sign of shock, and told me it was excellent. He then instructed me to send it to the client as-is. I walked away calmly, stepped into my office and did a silent yet jubilant fist pump.

Success! As an attorney, you have to take your successes when you can. It is a given that you will mess up sometime. Every time that you don't, needs to be celebrated.

So, as much as I look at each new assignment with utter terror, I am also thrilled beyond measure to have another new area of law to investigate and massage and examine. Law is such a fascinating and expansive subject. You can research every day of your life and still confront new issues and problems. In that regard, being a lawyer is extremely satisfying. Being a lawyer is also as intellectual as academia, except it is extremely practical. It's too bad being a lawyer comes with a host of unpleasant things, like student loans, job insecurity, billable hours, egomaniac personalities, and socially inept colleagues. Aside from all THAT, it is a wonderful, rewarding, and challenging career.

Billable Hours: Government Law Edition

In the family-friendly land of government law, "billable hours" is not such a bad word. Yes, it turns out that we still have them (where I am anyway) but they are mainly for budgeting purposes. "Billing" is such a loose term. "Billing" hours allows us to keep tabs on what government services and agencies use our time the most. Also, we do have some external clients that get actual bills.

The lawyers in my division of local government have a billable hour requirement. But it's a whole different animal than in private practice. I present....a demonstration:

Last week, I walked into my office and saw it. The dreaded billable hour spreadsheet. It was just sitting there, so-very-casually, on my desk. A bomb-detonator of emotion disguised as a harmless piece of paper. If you practice law in any private non-contingency-fee-based firm, you know what I'm talking about. You know the horror, the fear, the heart-stopping, body-paralyzing terror of the billable hour spreadsheet. It tells you, with pretty graphs and tables and formulas, exactly how far ahead (or in my case, usually behind) you are in reaching your billable hour goal (and from getting the life sucked out of your career).

My eyes scanned the numbers until they settled on my Number: 126. 

126 hours for my very first month at the firm. "I guess it's not HORRIBLE," I thought. But even as I thought that, I instinctively winced. At my other firms, I was required to bill at least 155 hours each month. My current number would be 29 hours short. That is almost 3.5 full days worth of work. I winced again. Well, it made sense. I took two sick days and spent two full days in non-billable training. Plus, it was a little slow going at first. 

I turned over the spreadsheet and sat heavily in my chair. That's when I noticed a bright orange sticky on the back of the paper. There, in pretty, feminine hand-written scrawl were the words, "Great job on your first month!"

What? Great job? I looked at the spreadsheet again which had a notation that my billable hour requirement was 1500 a year. I quickly did the math....wait, that came out to only 125 hours a month! Holy crap! 

So what would have been 29 hours short in my private practice attorney job was, in fact, 1 hour above my current billable hour requirement. And I wasn't even TRYING to meet my billable hour requirement that first month. I really wanted to do a happy dance but I was too deep into shock to move a muscle. 

Later in the day, my boss popped into my office and told me "good job" in person. She then commented, "We can always tell when someone comes from private practice. They are meticulous about their billing." I almost felt wrong accepting her praise. 126 hours was barely any effort on my part. In private practice, I would be scolded and reprimanded. They would demand that I come up with a plan for increasing my billable hours and insist on weekly follow-ups until I was on-track again. 

I'm still in disbelief about how amazing it is to be a government lawyer. If you can manage the discipline and long hours of private practice, you will succeed as a government attorney. And may even have a leg up.

Sap-Tastic

I've had several jobs that were merely tolerable. Once I got to the office, I could tolerate my work and my work environment. But I would often hate having to go to bed because it meant accepting that I had to work the next day. I would wake up and dread having to go to work.

I felt this way about classes. I felt this way when I took orders at a pizza place in Chicago. I felt this way when I was a file clerk for a city's HR department. I felt this way when I worked for a year as a paralegal. I felt this way when I was a legal intern.

When I graduated from law school and started my first job as an associate attorney, I thought my excitement would eventually fade. And it did. A little. But in the 1.5 years that I worked for that law firm, I couldn't remember a single day where I dreaded work. Even if my assignments were unpleasant, my clients rough, my schedule packed, I enjoyed going to work every day. I looked forward to it, in fact. I thought I was a sick, soulless person.  But when I worked as an associate attorney for my second law firm, I felt the same way. Even when I hated my work environment, I enjoyed my work. I was anxious to complete my 2 hour commute and arrive at my desk full of Important Things.

I assumed it was just litigation. I must be a sick, sick human who loves litigation, complete with lengthy motions, court-imposed deadlines, and strategic maneuvers. I love litigation with a passion (as long as I get to be on the defense side, anyway). I was very worried that my love for my work would turn stale upon taking a "general counsel" type position as a civil prosecutor. It turns out, I just really love being a lawyer.

I still favor litigation. We won a summary judgment dismissal recently and I'm in withdrawal from the case. To my co-workers' disgust, I'm hoping upon hope that they appeal the decision. I told you I'm a sick person. Also... APPELLATE BRIEFS = love. I also happen to love contract and insurance law above anything in the world so....that probably makes me certifiable.

But, I'm finding that I love my job even when I'm not handling litigation. In fact, I love how exciting and interesting my work as a "general counsel" for a government entity really is. In my two months in the new job, I've handled such a random collection of issues spanning the entire spectrum of law. Every new assignment involves a new area of law or a different nuance to an old area of law. I had no idea how satisfying this work would be. It turns out that civil prosecutors (in my county anyway) literally do everything. Even though I'm a newbie at the office, the fact that I've handled one or two assignments in a specialized area of law already makes me the resident expert in those areas. The fact that the scope of our work is so broad really does level the playing field for junior attorneys.

For a long, long time after lawschool, I was very bitter about my career path and the huge amount of indebtedness it caused. I has assumed, like most of my colleagues, that a law degree would bring a six-figure salary. If I knew then I'd barely be making HALF that upon graduation, I was sure I would have ran for the hills. I felt like my law degree was not worth the price I paid. I felt cheated. I had buyer's remorse. I regretted my decision. I had so much bitterness.

But looking back at everything now, I realize that it WAS worth it. Because I love what I'm doing. Absolutely love it. I know there is a career like that for everyone. A job that you love to do every single morning. A job that isalmost too good to be a "job." A job that you would continue to do even if money was not an issue. And law, as expensive as it may have been for me to get my foot in the door, just happens to be the perfect career for me. To have that passion and that love and that enthusiasm for the work that you will do everyday for the rest of your working life, is simply worth it. (P.S. if you are listening Direct Loans: I still wish I could keep more of my salary and not give it all away to you.)

Also, how can you not love coming to work to cabinets like this:

I know this post is sap-tastic. Sorry for that. I'm just feeling so incredibly blessed right now. In the morning, leave home for a job that I absolutely love that both challenges and fulfills me. And at night, I get to return to a home full of love and giggles and two sweet children. You know what? As much as I hate the phrase and the rhetoric that surrounds it, you really can have it all.*

*Caveat: I would like to qualify by saying that "having it all" is different for all people. It also isn't about being perfect or having things easy. My house is almost always a mess, we eat a lot of leftovers, and my kids wear the same clothes until they fail the smell test. God knows it is NOT easy to get both myself and the kids out of the house by 7:00 am each morning. And, oh Lordy, are they cranky as hell some evenings. But, despite the flaws and failures, I do have it all. And it's absolutely wonderful.

On "Fairness" In The Workplace

Many months ago, I was listening to the radio when there was a discussion on gender equality in the workplace. One of the guest speakers said something that stuck in my head. It has been bothering me ever since. The female speaker said something along the lines of, "Women who leave the workplace for a period of time to have and raise babies, should, upon their return, make the exact same amount as their male counterparts who stayed behind and continued to work. It's unfair that women are forced to bear the burden of reproduction while men are completely unaffected. This is why there is income inequality."

Allegedly, in this woman's mind, if a woman stepped out of her career for a couple years to have children, when she returned to work she should be given the same salary with raises and benefits as if she had never left work at all. Even though this woman had no extra job values or career skills to offer her employer (other than an incredible new perspective on life) than when she left. Apparently, women are "burdened" by reproduction. And apparently, it's up to employers and businesses to right this horrible, terrible "burden."

I'm sorry. That's not equality. That's the opposite of equality. I'm all for equality in the work place. Women should be paid the same as men of equal qualifications for doing the same quality of work. But they should not be paid the same for not working at all. Equality is not giving everyone the same thing. Equality is measuring everyone by the same objective performance standards. Fairness is not taking away our differences but offering reasonable accommodations (non-monetary) to allow individuals to participate in and get the most out of their careers despite lifestyle choices.

There is a part of me that understands the argument that this woman proposes. At first blush, it does seem unfair that half the population has to step back from their careers for even a short period of time (often 6 weeks) based solely upon their gender and their desire to bring forth the next generation. But when our society sees the wonderful gift of creating life as a "burden," ... boy do we have it all wrong.

You know what is really "unfair?" Men will never experience the movements of a child growing within. Men will never know what it feels like to nurture a child with their own bodies. Men, aside from the obvious contributions at the beginning of a pregnancy, will never be able to create life. The amazing, surreal, and mind blowing experience of creating a person can only be experienced by men on the periphery. This joy is reserved solely for those lucky enough to be women. That is what is really unfair.

I'm not saying all of pregnancy and childbirth is easy. I, as much as anyone, know how hard it can be. I absolutely hated being pregnant. But even despite abdomen muscle separation, kidney stones, stretch marks, back pain, and being unable to breathe for the last three months of pregnancy, even despite all of those things, the miracle of it all is hard to ignore and I would never give it all up for the alternative.

So when our society, and women in particular, complain about the "burden" of reproduction as if it is some black mark or disability that women need to be liberated from, I can't help but think that we have our priorities all wrong. We're buying into the male-centric view that the end-all, be-all of our worth as humans is our place in the workforce totem pole and the size of our paycheck. Under this male-dominated view of self-worth, being separated from your job, for even just a couple weeks, is the ultimate career death and, therefore, the cure is for women is to be treated as if they never left.

As a working mom, I know it is important for workplaces to support both women and men who enter the wonderful world of parenthood. Obviously, I think that women should not be punished for taking time off to have children. They should not have to worry about being fired for going on maternity leave or taking sick days related to pregnancy and childbirth. They should be given opportunities to excel and move up in their careers upon their return to work. But why are we being told to treat our unique physical capabilities (i.e. the ability to create life) as a handicap? Why do we think we should be given things we do not earn as a consolation prize for having to bear the "burden" of enduring the great miracle of life?

It's not "fair" that women have to bear the majority of pregnancy and childbirth. Just as it is not fair that people with no kids have more disposable income. Just as it is not fair that some people are unable to have children. Just as it is not fair that some people are born with disabilities. Just as it is not fair that we do not get to choose our gender at conception. But giving women more pay for less work when they take time off to have children is as absurd as establishing someone's pay based upon how many children they have. Mothers above all else, who repeatedly have to introduce the concept of life as unfair to their children should understand the application of this very concept!

We all make choices in life. We all have different values. We all have different physical and mental capabilities. Some of us are men. Some of us our women. The only way to ensure "fairness" in the workplace is not by taking away our differences so that we are all the same but to reasonably accommodate our differences so that, no matter what those differences are, we have the opportunity to contribute to and participate in our professions and careers.

I find it highly offensive that society views our differences as "disabilities" as if we all should want the exact same things out of life and any deviations or alterations from the "straight an narrow" career path, whether forced or chosen, render us inferior or someone to be pitied or liberated. I also find it very unsettling that women view the natural ability to create life as an intolerable and insufferable burden that must be alleviated. We should celebrate the fact that we are fortunate enough to be born women and that we have the amazing ability to make an entirely new person with nothing more than our bodies (and, of course, some male contribution at the very beginning).

At Peace With It All

The other day I was talking to my mom and she mentioned that one of my cousins who had a baby six months ago has returned to work full time. To that, she added, "You're not the bad guy anymore!"

"Huh? What do you mean I'm not the bad guy anymore?"

"You're not the only working mom in the family now."

When I went to work after graduating from law school and having a baby, I just assumed working was expected of me. Ever since I can remember, my entire family has encouraged all of us to obtain the best education possible. Education became not just the top priority, it was the ONLY priority. My parents. My grandparents. My teachers. My adult role models. The same chant rang through my ear, "All that matters is getting a good education."

Well. I did. I did what everyone freaking told me. I tossed away my application to that film school in Montana (which was pretty much my dream and, in addition to my fondness for hot men in kilts, explains why I saw Gladiator seven times in the movie theater) and sent in applications to the highest ranking liberal arts schools that I thought I could get into.

And then guess what? I did pretty well. And I loved it. And I wasn't ready to be done when I graduated in three years. I spent a year interning for a local government agency and then I applied to law school. My parents LOVED to tell their friends that their daughter was in law school. I didn't know if I was on the right track, but I loved to be the source of their smiles.

"Cool," I thought. "I must be doing something right."

But then something strange happened. I had a baby in my last year of law school. Then I graduated. Then I got a job. Full time. As an attorney. "Hey proud family! You must be REALLY proud now!"

SILENCE.

What? Didn't you hear me? I'm finally USING that education you guys wanted me to get so badly. I'm finally working in the field that you all were so proud of me to study in. Isn't that fantastic?!

SILENCE.

One thing I didn't count on was a weird sort of mutated double standard. According to what my world was telling me, it seemed, women should be educated and smart. But how dare they want to use their education in a work environment once they became moms. Initially, most of the pressure I felt was from my own stay-at-home mom. She kept insisting that I didn't have to work. That I could find a way to stay home with my baby. Even though she was gracious enough to watch my baby while I was at work, she would very adamantly insist in overly-judgy gazes that my baby needed ME not her. When I would pick my son up from her house she would say, "I can't replace you. You're his mommy."

I can't tell you how many tears I cried over the immense guilt I felt that first year. It was nearly unbearable at times. The criticisms around me compounded with the own insecurities I felt. I loved being an attorney. But was I sacrificing my child's needs for my own career?

When my son was 3, I tried to wean him from his binky. But every time I tried, my mom would sabotage me. "He needs his binky. It's his security. Because you're not there." Ouch. It was a struggle. Those first couple years. There are a handful of very vivid memories I have of me staying late after work, trying to catch up on my billable hours, sitting in front of my computer, gazing at the picture of my baby, and letting fat, wet, warm tears spring from my eyes. I cried silently. Alone. In my office. Wondering if I wasn't making the biggest mistake of my life.

Then one day, I overheard my grandma and my mom talking. My grandma (also a stay-at-home mom) was giving my mom an earful about how horrible it was that I would leave my baby to work all day. How horrible it was that my mom was raising my son.

Listening to my grandma talk, I couldn't help but succumb to the wave of self-pity that washed over me. But at the same time, I started to understand a little bit of what my own mom was up against. When she was criticizing my choice to go to work, she was projecting a little bit of the harsh judgment of the world in which she, herself, was raised. She was reflecting on all the broken homes that my childhood friends grew up in, a cause of which she always attributed to the fact that there was not a parent at home. She was projecting the voice and concerns of her own mother (my grandmother). This was new territory for her. This was a world she did not understand.

As my mom was about to respond to my grandma's harsh criticism, I expected another heavy blow. But when she opened her mouth to the telephone, I didn't hear what I expected. She told my grandma how proud she was of me. How well I'm doing juggling everything. How much I love my baby. How hard I am working for my family. How well my husband and I work together. The breath that had been squeezed out of my body just moments before, returned and filled my lungs once again. I felt hopeful.

At first, my mom was my harshest critic. But over time, she became my biggest fan. Even though I lived a life very different from hers and was trying to survive in a world that she could not even imagine, she learned to support me. This year on my birthday, she stuck a handwritten letter in the diaper bag. I found it after I pulled up to the house and parked the car. I sat there and poured over every single word. It was so uplifting. As I read each sentiment, I felt, for the first time that she finally understood. She finally appreciated. It was incredible how accurately she described my personal challenges and worries and addressed them head on with encouragement and support.

The other day when my mom said, "You're not the bad guy anymore." My family's long-lasting criticism made sense. I've been fighting a lonely uphill battle. Until then I didn't realize that, out of a very large family with 50+ cousins on both sides, the majority of whom are married, that I was the ONLY full-time working mom. Up until this summer, when my cousin returned to work after having her baby girl, I was it. Taking the criticism on my own. (Some of my aunts were working moms but I don't remember my grandparents ever criticizing them- I haven't figured that one out yet).

All this time I was the only one trying to change my family's very traditional definition of the term "mom." I wish I had worried less about what they thought and focused more on being happy with my own decisions. It's easy to feel unsure about your mothering choices, to let the feelings of the outside world chip away at you, when you yourself won't come to peace with your own insecurities. Ultimately, for me, finding a job that was a good fit for my family and having my mom on my side was the key to feeling secure about my choices.

While I've slowly come to terms with my own insecurities and developed a small little support team (my mom and my husband), my jobs have played a very critical factor in how I feel about my choice to be a working mom. And yes, it is cliche, but everything really does come down to balance.

My first job offered a great career but was bad for family. The second job was great for family but boring and a waste of my lawyer skills. The third job was a part time (30 hours) version of my first job. That still didn't work. The private law firm atmosphere plus my commute was just not family friendly, even for part time (omg, the stress! the billable hours, the commute!). My new job, and where I hope to stay for quite some time, combines the best of all my prior jobs- interesting and challenging work, without the crazy private law firm environment. My commute is amazingly short and I have just the right amount of family time. For the first time since I have embarked on my law career, there is not the faintest hint of mommy guilt associated with working.

On top of all that, I feel like my own kids are showing me that having a working mom is not a black mark. It turns out that having a working mom is just one of a series of possible positive and healthy experiences. The way Jacob gregariously approaches new people in an effort to turn every stranger into a friend, the way he bravely tries new things, and showers us all with hugs, smiles, and his laughter; the way Ryan is a brave and tough little bulldozer who is selective about his "friends" but showers those select lucky souls with boundless cuddles and loves, the way Ryan wants to sit at the big boy table like his brother, carry the grocery basket at the store, and bravely climbs the big toys to frightening (for his mama) heights. My boys are like any other boys. They are smart, adjusted, secure, loved and loving. They, above all else, are proof that this whole thing is working. And they are the best reward after a long hard day at the office.

The Nerd Fairy Visits

I continue to be the happiest person on earth. My work is amazing so far. It's too amazing. I have two feelings that are competing for my mind right now. One is total excitement and relief that I have finally found the perfect job for me. The other is anxiety and fear that all this wonderfulness will go away or disappear, either, because this is all a dream or because they are unable to extend my position after the original six months.

When I accepted the job, I was told I would be doing a lot of public disclosure stuff (mindless document review). So far, I've only been doing litigation (which is totally fine with me!). I've been asked to assist on a case that is going to trial in December. It's a personal injury case so I'm totally in my element and comfort zone. The litigation team (all four of us) were sitting around the conference table yesterday discussing litigation strategy. I was amazed at how much I knew about trial strategy and how much I could contribute. I was genuinely surprised.

I only have three years of litigation under my belt (only two years of active participation) and I've only co-chaired one trial, but here I was actively contributing to the strategy session. I was pinching myself and asking, "who is this person who has suddenly occupied my body?!" I feel like I've crossed a precipice. The one that divides newbies from non-newbies. It feels amazing. I have to say that I owe it to insurance defense work. When you defend cases for insurance companies you are exposed to so many different cases and issues that you quickly gain experience in a little bit of everything.

As idyllic and dreamlike as my position is, the actual work has been even more so. Everything is going so well that I feel like this job was made for me. My first day at work, I was asked to assist with researching an unusual and obscure issue on which there is not much case law or guidance. It just so happens that I had researched that same exact issue two months ago and had written an extensive motion on it. I was able to provide some information off the top of my head which, I'm hoping, earned me some major points.

I heard one of the litigation attorneys talking about an insurance coverage issue she was having in another case. Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, "Oh my gosh, can I help? I love insurance coverage. It's my favorite!" Half an hour later, I had finished drafting a request for tender. From the far reaches of my memory, I pulled out my knowledge of insurance company duties to defend and indemnify, standards for properly determining coverage, and extra-contractual damages. With each word I typed about breaches of good faith and coverage estoppel, I became giddy with happiness and a little person inside me was doing the happy dance on repeat. NERD ALERT.

My next assignment is to draft a complaint for declaratory judgment. This is like the jackpot of all jackpots for insurance law lovers like me. I'm so excited that I just spent an hour of my Friday evening researching sample complaints....for FUN.

Speaking of weekend, it could not have come at a better time! I just spent the past two days drafting an intense response to a summary judgment motion. It's lengthy and bursting with legal analysis. On Thursday I spent seven consecutive hours drafting it. I spent another seven consecutive hours on it today. By the time 4:30 rolled around, my brain was going to explode if I had to analogize one more case. I felt like my eyes were emitting rays of computer light. The next two days will give my brain plenty of time to rest.

But, honestly, I can't wait to go to work on Monday so I can get started on that complaint for declaratory judgment. I'm pretty sure the nerdy fairy has just inducted me into the nerd hall of fame.

Under New Mom-agment

I feel like I just had a life make-over. Or I'm living someone else's life. OR this is a dream. I'm going to wake up any second right?

The new job started on Tuesday and, holy hell, it is fabulous. I keep thinking "THIS is how normal people live?!" as if a cruel and unusual shackle has been cast off my shoulders and I'm finally learning what it is like to be a normal person. Everything seems brighter, better, and more wonderful. 

With my new job, I get the best of both worlds: I get to live like a "normal" person and have an attorney job! No late hours. No insane billable hours. No pressure to make partner. No anxiety over trying to bring in new clients. I get some darn good benefits. I get an office. I get to do interesting and important work. I get home at (or even BEFORE) 5:00 p.m. This just has to be a dream. The salary isn't anything special for an attorney job but...I feel ridiculous for even bringing that up given how great everything else is. 

The peaceful view from my new office:

The work itself is interesting and important. I'm part of a team that acts very much like the general counsel for the local government. We do everything and anything. We provide counsel on any topic that might arise out of the governance of a county and the operation of any government agency or department. This includes litigation and contracts. I already have research assignments on everything from agency law and the implementation of policies, Indian law tax issues, restoration of gun rights, and health insurance programs under the new national law. I've also been assigned to assist in pre-trial work for a case we are defending. I'm approaching everything with wide eyes, a bushy tail, and a unwaivering smile. Am I still dreaming?

There's just one tiny problem. I'm only guaranteed 6 months of employment. So as much as I want to let out a deep sigh and revel in the amazement that I actually landed this too-good-to-be-true job, the threat of future unemployment looms above all the wonderfulness. Still, I'm trying really hard to ignore that gray cloud and grasp desperately onto my effervescent and undefeatable optimism. 

Before I got this job, I had no idea what a civil prosecutor actually did (other than defend against lawsuits). I had no idea this was the job of my dreams. And that it was only 15 minutes away from my home. Even though I originally went to law school because I wanted to be an attorney for a government agency or a local government entity, I was positive that I would be a private litigator for the rest of my life. I had lost sight of my original inspiration or had simply accepted that it was too impossible to land one of these jobs, especially with my legal experience narrowly limited to the realm of personal injury litigation. 

When I interviewed for this job, I didn't even want it. When they offered me the position (by way of a presumptuous voicemail message welcoming me to the team), I still didn't want it. When I accepted the position (out of extreme desperation), I was convinced I was making the wrong choice and throwing my career away. But, I really wanted to be closer to home and told myself it would be worth the "sacrifice." 

The "sacrifice" has turned into the most wonderful situation I could imagine. I can't believe how lucky I am. Jobs like mine do not become available very often. Because they are so good, there is not much turn-over. I keep replaying all the events that got me to where I am and I cannot believe how well all the pieces fell into place. It's as if this is what I was meant to do. As if I've fallen in line with my destiny and the universe is indicating it's approval by no longer fighting against me. 

Now, if only I can convince them to hire me permanently....

Now that my commute is shorter (it's 15 minutes at the maximum which is only 13% of the length of my prior commute), I have truly become a different person. I get home at 5:00 p.m. and leisurely make dinner while the kids play at my feet. Sometimes we actually go to the park or ride bikes in the back alley or run errands or even do chores... DURING THE WEEKDAYS! This was absolutely unheard of before since I never got home before 7:00 p.m. and many times I got home at 8:00 p.m. 

With my prior commute, I would typically come home from work on a Friday night at 7:00 p.m. at the earliest. I would come home purely exhausted and have to fight an internal battle between desperately wanting to spend time with the kids and desperately wanting to put them to bed so I could collapse on the couch. Then I would sit on the couch and do absolutely nothing but be a zombie for the rest of the night. 

This Friday, I got home at 5:00 p.m., I disassembled Ryan's crib, I picked up the kids from my mom, took them shopping for party supplies, played with the kids, picked up dinner, re-organized the boys' entire room, and tucked them peacefully into bed. What a change! THIS is how normal people live!!

The momentum from this positive life change has encouraged me to be more balanced and healthy in other aspects of my life. For the first time since we were married, I put together a budget (with my husband's input). We set aside some goals and I'm tracking our spending with nazi-like discipline. I'm also eating much more healthy now that I'm not constantly rushing to throw food together or cram all my meal planning in on the weekends. For the first time probably in the history of my life there was a real (non-potato) side of vegetables served with every dinner meal this week. My daily lunches are even half vegetable. Who am I?! 

I feel like I have a complete handle on all aspects of my life right now. It's amazing how the extra energy and hours I've saved from commuting have completely enhanced my quality of life. THIS is how normal people live! I absolutely love it!

One Hour Of Perfection

Yesterday I wrapped up my old job (barely). Before I could leave I had to draft a motion for partial summary judgment. This was the stipulation for my final farewell. I finally finished it at 6:15pm! It's even pretty good, if I do say so myself. I even went to the effort of bate-stamping my exhibits so I could reference them by page number. Bate-stamped pages make me so happy.

As the evening dragged on, however, I lost steam in the final few minutes. The thought of taking the final effort of tying my arguments up nicely in a conclusion section seemed unbearable. So I kinda skipped it. I hope my boss appreciates this as he is reviewing my draft.

I'm the one that introduced him to the trending phrase "sorry for partying." So I'm sure he'll see it as a final souvenir of my employment with the firm...ha ha, RIGHT....

I also need to mention that on my last day at the firm, my boss sent out an email with the following subject (in all caps, of course): "WHOEVER JAMMED THE BIG STAPLER, PLEASE COME SEE ME!" The e-mail went on to explain the importance of having a jam-free stapler in case there is an "emergency." Ha.

HA HA HA HA!

Also, I totally had a nightmare that I filed a motion and used the word "hafta" instead of "have to" and my boss flipped out and I was totally horrified and filled with anxiety. I wonder if the litigation nightmares will stop sometime or if they will be ever present, much like those pesky high school test nightmares.

We are off to Canada tomorrow for the rest of the week/weekend. But today, I have absolutely no plans, obligations, or work-related stress. And it feels amazing! I kind of feel unemployed. It's the best feeling ever. Hmmm, I could get used to this.

This morning, I took the kids to the gym and ran 6 miles. Now the baby is sleeping, the big kid is "resting" on the couch. I'm sitting in my warm bed enjoying the post-run high and the awesome feeling of spent muscles while eating a much-deserved cookie dough Power bar (yes, there IS such as thing...and it is amazing!), listening to Macklemore's The Heist, and doing WHATEVER THE HECK I WANT. (Forgetting for a moment that my house it complete chaos.)

It may be really simple, but this is my idea of perfection. I am in a total state of bliss right now. Life is good!

Crying At The Office

I planned to stay late at work today because we are all swamped and low on staff. Instead, I left “early” at 5:30 p.m., crying and almost running out of the office.

My boss had a little outburst over something that happened. I sat there in my desk trying to figure out what to say that would make my boss stop yelling and walk out of my office. Everything I said made the outburst worst. I finally said, “I made a mistake, OK! I will fix it right away!” As I said this, tears began to well up in my eyes.  A couple blinks later and there were streams pouring down my cheeks. I could feel myself sweating. After my boss walked away, I desperately tried to wipe my sweaty forehead and dry my eyes with my sweater sleeve, without success (yeah, ew!). My tears came more quickly. I picked up my bags, and walked ran-walked out of the office.

As I walked to the ferry, my boss called. I ignored him. He called again. I decided to answer. He apologized profusely, admitted to over-reacting, and begged for forgiveness. I forgave him quickly and also apologized. But in my head, what was I apologizing for? Maybe for my “mistake” I guess but also for crying. As I hung up, I was angry with myself. I shouldn’t apologize for my emotional reaction. My boss’s emotion reaction was far worse and my response was a legitimate expression of my feelings of frustration for his outburst.

I used to think that crying at work was the most horrible thing a woman could do. I used to think that crying at work was a sign of weekness, of inferiority, of a woman not being able to “handle” the pressure of litigation. I have never seen nor heard of a man crying at the office for a work-related reason. But I had seen women do it. Mostly women who always brought their domestic problems to the office and who had a reputation for over-reacting easily.

In the past three years (since graduating from law school), I can recall crying specifically five times. Each time stands out in my mind. The first two times, I closed my office door and silently cried in my office because I was working late and missing my baby. My tears, thankfully, went unnoticed. The last two times were both at my current office as a reaction to an outburst from my boss from something I did or did not do.

Part of me feels embarrassed and ashamed about the times I've cried at the office. Our former receptionist used to cry at work all the time. She was always reacting emotionally to everything. I did not respect her for this. I thought she over-reacted to the smallest things and was way too sensitive. And again, I thought, if a man were in her place, would he cry? This is why people hate to hire women! They have to deal with crazy emotional over-reactions.

But lately, I’ve changed my mind. I’ve decided that crying can be a legitimate emotional reaction to some incidents at the work place. In some circumstances, it is a natural response to cry (especially when you are being berated unreasonably, when you are being personally attacked or criticized, when prompted by someone else’s emotional over-reaction). While I think other reactions may be more effective than crying, it is impossible for some people not to cry in certain circumstances. It’s human. We are human. And all humans process emotions differently.

Why should we be forced to stifled our natural emotions? Even though I’ve never seen a man cry at the office, I’ve seen men (and other women) engage in other emotional reactions. I’ve seen them get mad, yell, and scream.  These are no more appropriate or less distracting than crying. They may be more harmful and disruptive in fact.

And still, there is a line. There is a point where expressing emotion in the office (no matter what kind that may be) is not professional. But....I guess I'm learning that crying can have a place as long as people are respectful.

Tips I've learned:

1. Remove yourself from the tear-inducing environment as soon as possible, if in a meeting and it is appropriate, excuse yourself respectfully.

2. Find a quiet place where you won't distract others where you can reflect and finish crying if necessary (sometimes it just feels good to get it all out and let it run its course!)

3. DO NOT make any decision, draft any pleading, or write any letter while under the influence of strong emotion... or you may make quick enemies!

4. As soon as the tears are under control, suck it up, get to business and tackle what needs to be done or fixed.

5. Don't apologize for crying! If you caused a disruption or made a mistake, you might consider apologizing for that but not for crying!

6. If you are in a position where you are crying at work a lot, it might be time to reflect whether there is a larger cause. Do you keep making mistakes? Is someone else being unreasonable/a tyrant? Are you unhappy with your job situation? Are you emotionally trigger happy? Is there an underlying cause for your tears (a problem at home) that is really the cause? Maybe you need to tackle some bigger/underlying issues going on in your life or reassess your work situation?

Just Plain Rude

One of our personal injury cases has turned into an insurance bad faith case seemingly overnight. This makes me happy. I love insurance bad faith almost as much as I love insurance coverage. Although a lot of other projects have been waiting in my work queue, I fervently drafted a letter to an opposing counsel on the bad faith case. I was very proud of my three page, persuasive letter which was brimming with legal authority and thoughtful analysis.

My boss gave me good feedback and told me I was starting to sound like "Attorney X," a notorious bad faith attorney in our area. Looking back, I took way too much pride in that compliment. My letter was addressed to a partner at a Big Law firm. A couple days later, opposing counsel responded to my letter. Except he did not address his response to me. He addressed it to one of the male partners in the firm. What? MY name was on that letter. Why would he respond to someone else? I was pissed. I turned down the opportunity to made a snarky comment in a follow-up letter. I almost wish I had. But that's not really my style.

I don't consider myself to be a shining proponent of feminism. Obviously, I'm not against women being considered and treated as equals in the work place. I'm just not very militant about it. I wouldn't turn down a male coworker's offer to help me nail a frame on my office wall or help me carry a heavy box. I think chivalry is awesome, not anti-feminist. I don't necessarily buy into the argument that women across the board earn less than male counterparts in the same circumstances (I may be incorrect in my thinking but I just don't have very high regard for the statistics and "studies" out there - in general I always take statistics with a grain of salt). I don't think being considered a "nice" person is a bad thing for a lawyer (not necessarily a feminist issue but more women tend to be labeled as "nice" or "gentle" than men, in my opinion).

BUT. BUT. Even if I will never win a gold medal for my work in advancing the plight of women in this country, I still hate when male chauvinism creeps into the work place. If I do good work, I want it to be recognized and acknowledged as MY work. And even if I'm not a partner and even if I don't have as much experience as my opponents, I would hope they would have enough respect for me as a human to deal with me directly rather than completely bypass me for a higher-up.

End. Rant.

Never Ride With Your Boss

I worked on Saturday. But, even though I had to get up at 5:00 a.m. to catch the 6:20 boat to be in the office at 7:45, it wasn't altogether unpleasant.

When I got to the office, my boss and I spent a good amount of time reviewing witness declarations and medical records for one of our cases. We then hopped in his car to meet with our expert witness. As my boss zipped out of the parking garage, he said, "I've got JUST the music for you. You're going to love it." When an up-beat tempo came through the stereo and a borderline falsetto male voice pierced the airways, I immediately recognized the CD: Justin Timberlake's new album. Apparently my boss is a pretty hip 50-year old man.

He cranked up the bass as loud as it would go and rolled down the windows. Before I knew it, he was doing DOUBLE air guitars (yes, while driving) and singing along to the risqué lyrics of "Strawberry Bubble Gum" ("But you, you're delicious on your own/After I break you down my fingers, it's so sweet") I suddenly had a flashback to the time I was 14 and commuting home with my dad after a long day at my summer job. My dad had cranked up Shania Twain as loud as the stereo would go and, stuck in traffic with windows rolled down, he belting out "Man, I feel like a woman!" while bobbing his head dramatically back and forth. My 14-year old self was extremely mortified.

This time, however, Justin Timberlake's songs were much too catchy for me to be bothered by my boss' little show. And, in a fit of road rage, when my boss yelled out the window to a poorly merging Winnebago in front of him, "Ease in, big fella!" It was only fitting that I shouted back, "That's what she said!" My boss snorted with laughter and told me, "good one!" It could have been pulled directly out of a scene from the Office.

We spent the rest of the trip talking about embarrassing gynecological procedures (slightly related to a case) and, after we stopped at a famous Five Guys Burger joint and filled up on carbonated beverages, I got to listen to my boss' ovation-worthy belches for the last five minute leg of the trip.

Working on Saturdays is sometimes amusing.

Mind Games

After a weekend and a Monday of working from "home," I'm often totally overwhelmed with the thought of returning to the office. Some days it is so bad that I'm just a sliver of sanity away from throwing in the towel. In my moments of vulnerability, I'm consumed by the feeling that there is a demon waiting for me at work in the form of an angry partner or an endless pile of work on the one or two particularly horrible cases that never seem to go away.

On these bad days, just the thought of going to the office makes me feel anxious, overwhelmed, and suffocated. While I have a strong work ethic, I also have a strong awaeness of the transient nature of life. This otherworldly awareness keeps me strongly focused on What Matters Most. It also encourages me to focus on doing things that I enjoy. The second that the anxiety/unpleasantness from my work starts to outweigh the enjoyment, that's when I have a tendency to flee. This may explain why, in the past three years I've had three different jobs.

This morning on my ferry ride to work, I just couldn't get myself to resume working on the motion I had started the day before. Instead, in my ulcer-induced state, I anxiously checked job listings on the internet. I was looking for ANYTHING that would allow me to escape the practice of law and the one or two big cases that cause me to hyperventilate at night. If those cases would just quietly disappear, my job would be much better. Ugh.

And then...I get to work. I tackle a few small tasks. A (.1) billable hour here a (.2) billable hour then and then suddenly it's noon and I've crossed ten things off my ever-expanding to-do list. I stop for a quick lunch and tackle the rest of the afternoon. I suddenly forget my anxiety and decide that I actually do like my job and that I'm actually kind of good at it sometimes. By the time I leave work, I'm refreshed and rejuvenated in my capabilities.

No matter how positive I feel as I leave work, the next day I face that same dread and anxiety all over again. For me, it's like running. Most days I have to play mind games to force myself out of the house and into my running shoes. But as soon as my feet hit the pavement, I've got a gigantic smile on my face and a new outlook on life. It's still hard to get out the door every day. But I find that I enjoy it when it is over.

Regarding my job, I can't really identify my mental impediments. I don't know if it is just these particularly difficult cases looming over my head, certain situations with my work, or the commute. Before I walk into the office, I often feel like I'm not capable of doing my job and by the time I walk out, I feel accomplished and satisfied with my performance. I just can't explain it. It must all be in my head- like when start chipping away at a tremendous to-do list only to find that the momentum carries you ever forward. It's like that....kinda.

I think I know the problem. I should have just married a doctor.

My Long, Lonely Tight Rope

I'm treading water while being spun in wild, erratic circles. At least that is how life feels right now. I'm trying to give 100% of myself to my job and 100% of myself to my kids and 30% of myself to my chores and then another 5% of myself to myself. That's 235%.*

Between juggling work and two kids and a disastrous commute and dinners and never-ending laundry, I often daydream about what life is like for other people. People without all these things. People who get to focus all their attention and energy on just work or just raising children. I gawk at the thought.

Lately we have been watching a series called House of Cards which features a childless couple in high-demanding jobs. In the show the characters get up early to go for runs or just to savor the early hours of the morning. They casually get ready for work each morning, enjoying their coffee and savoring a breakfast. They don't know what it is like to frantically drag children out of bed, beg those children multiple times to put on pants and shoes, convince those children to eat something other than fruit snacks, and whisk them out the door while racing against the clock only to discover just before the door closes that the youngest child shit his diaper, then rush to the office to START the day.

I don't ENVY them per se. The profound joy that my children bring can never be substituted for a limitless amount of free time. And envy is a slippery and dangerous slope. It breeds resentment and bitterness and other poisonous feelings. But I do, on occasion, try to fathom what life would be like if I weren't trying to give 235% of myself in different directions each day.

Months ago, I posted about how I had finally achieved peace and balance since taking my new job. But I've learned since then that balance isn't a destination. It's a tight rope. And, if you are a working mom, you walk that tight rope your entire career. One day you might walk several feet on the rope without feeling pulled too far in one direction. This doesn't mean that you will not plummet to the depths below on the very next day.

My satisfaction at work has been replaced with a teeter-tottering sensation. I love parts of my work and other parts are very hard. Some days I'm convinced that I should never do anything but litigation. But then something small will set me off and I'm ready to apply to ANY job that is not in the legal field. Lately I've been tempted to drop it all and find something completely unrelated to law. But what? I'm not qualified to do anything else. I'd be starting at some entry level job that, more likely than not, will be merely mind-numbing. I can't think of any other job, outside academia, that requires the same wonderful mixture of strategy and intellect that litigation offers.

No, I love litigation. Plain and simple. I just don't like anything else about the circumstances of my work. I hate my commute. I hate billable hours. I hate being tied to a desk. I hate working with crazy and unpredictable people. I hate office politics. I hate that the demands on my time will always outweigh what I am able to give. I hate that my office needs a really ambitious associate to take initiative on building the firm and I cannot be that person. I hate that I have this strong itch to devote my entire self to both my career and to my family yet cannot do this because....duh, 235% is not possible or sustainable.

What's the solution? Should I get off this fast moving train while my kids are still young. I'm so worried that their childhood is zipping by at an alarming rate and that I'm just letting it go. Should I just bail on this whole lawyer thing? (Very tempted somedays!) How will I pay back my loans? Or do I just continue to tread water, giving less than 100% of myself to everything, and just endure the guilt and regrets? This tight rope walking is seriously going to give me an ulcer. Do I just suck it up and be thankful (for a job and healthy, amazing children.)

There are no answers. Just the astounding realization that as soon as balance is achieved, the center of gravity shifts yet again.

To end on a happy note, I sure as heck love these guys and hope that I sufficiently show my love for them each day. That's all that matters, right?

Pointing at the camera lens.

 

It's amazing how much older he looks when he is actually on two feet.

*Forgive my absence on the internet lately. All my free time has been going to my summer reading list. I read blogs on the bus but rarely have time to comment.

Undefeated

For the last two weeks because we had a shortage of people in our office, I agreed to come into work everyday (rather than work my usual two days per week at home). It was a great chance to get a lot of stuff off my desk. (This doesn't mean that I am not productive at home. I'm actually very productive at home. The fact that my boss doesn't come into my office every hour helps. However, there are certain types of things that are hard to do at home. Especially projects that require accessing a lot of physical files.)

Things went well at first. But by the second week, I was a wreck. I was exhausted from waking up at 5:30 every morning after going to bed at or after midnight the night before. I was depressed from only seeing my children one hour each weekday. It didn't help that it was always the hour before bedtime when they are tired and cranky. I was bone-tired from all the walking, and bus-taking, and ferry-riding, and car-driving.

Plus my home was an absolute disaster because I was only there long enough for the kids to take out every toy and for me to throw my clothes all over every free inch of floor space. Laundry piled up. The dishes piled up in the sink (no dishwasher = sadness). The pet fish was forced to skip a meal or two until Jacob eventually found him belly-up in his bowl (we had a lovely toilet-side service for our dear Cinnamon). AND we ate like homeless people who had just been digging through trash bags. One night for dinner Jacob ate three chicken nuggets, a half a bowl of chicken noodle soup, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and the last two baby carrots in the fridge.

During this period of time, our home life was the opposite of wonderful. The downward trend finally peaked on Friday morning when I attended a hearing and the opposing party won their motion. I had thought my briefing was flawless, the case law in my favor, and my arguments impenetrable. I was so confident in this hearing that when I caught opposing counsel reviewing his notes prior to the hearing, I smirked arrogantly to myself, "It's pointless! I already won!"

When the judge ruled in his favor and awarded SANCTIONS, I was sure that she had stopped speaking English for a moment. "What? What did she just say!" I was completely dumbfounded. I had read all the cases and the rules. I did not think there was any basis or precedent for the opposing party to win the motion. My briefing and legal research had been rock solid. Did we even read the same cases? Was I even in the right court room? Is this a dream?

For the entire rest of the day and the entire weekend, I sunk into a pit of despair. I had cost the firm a fair amount of money in sanctions and I still couldn't figure out how it all happened. The dots did not connect. I relived every second of my oral argument over and over, picking apart all the mistakes I must have made. It felt horrible to be so sure of my position and to completely lose on all counts. Are my oral advocacy skills THAT horrible?! Before I knew it, I developed a temporary but deep hatred for litigation and my profession and my career. I was convinced that I just did not have what it takes to do this lawyer crap. In a tantrum-like fit of despair, I scoured employment websites trying to find ANY job for which I was semi-qualified that wasn't law-related. I was all ready to switch careers when my two-day long tantrum slowly dissipated. Apparently, I do not handle losses well.

It turns out, all that despair and tantrum throwing must have stemmed from the larger issue of not having any sleep or family time in the past two weeks. The whole experience really showed me how essential it is to work from home part time. Clearly this arrangement is the only thing keeping me from ending up like Jacob's goldfish- eyes glazed, lifeless, and swirling wildly out of control down the toilet of life.

But today, life (and my love for the law) resurrected itself once again. At 5:30 p.m. after a day full of interesting legal research and outlining dispositive motions (I love those!), I dragged the kids to the park and made them join me in a five mile run. As I pushed my two favorite little people in the jogging stroller across an expanse of painfully bright green grass, I regained my inner peace. Halfway through the run, I was joined by a complete stranger. Together (at 8:00 mile pace!) we chatted about our high school (we both attended the same school but at different times), the teachers we had, and our experiences running track and cross country (she was also coached by my former high school coach!). We chatted about life and work and being a working mommy. She made my run breeze by and I am so thankful for her positivity and encouragement which was received at a much-needed time.

After "our" run, I set the kids loose on the playground. We made friends with a family of three young girls who were accompanied by their dad. The dad and I chatted and laughed and compared notes. Under the glorious sunshine, we watched the kids fling sand at each other, dig holes, build castles, steal shovels, and race across the park. As the dad and I were wrapping up a discussion about the ridiculous expenses of childcare, he happened to casually mention that his wife is a local nutrition counselor who deals with eating disorders. If that wasn't a SIGN then I don't know what is. I've been trying to find a local counselor who handles eating disorders and takes insurance for two weeks and kept coming up empty handed.

We left the park and got home just in time for the kids and I to cuddle on Jacob's bottom bunk and read "Green Eggs and Ham." Ryan laid his head against my chest, clutching his teddy bear desperately under his chin and sat through the entire book. Every time I turned a page, he pointed to the new illustrations with interest which made Jacob laugh hysterically. I tucked the kids in and walked out of their room content with knowing that I had given them just the right amount of attention, affection, and love. That feeling is, more often than not, a rarity for me.

I'm certain that today was my gold-sticker from the Heavens. Today assured me that I'm doing a good job after all, that things are going to be ok, and that the ship that is my life is slowly righting itself after an uncommonly harsh storm. Sometimes, I'm certain that happiness is not so much a feeling or state of mind but a process.

Holiday Weekend: Work & Play

As a gift from opposing counsel, an intense motion landed on our desks mid-last week. The motion was an attempt to exclude evidence that would be really critical to our case. It also involved an issue of first impression in our state (at least no higher court had ruled on the issue). Our response was due today which meant my boss and I took turns working on it all holiday weekend. Good thing our family hadn't planned that trip...!

It was kind of a bummer only because the motion was intense and complicated. I really only worked 9 hours over the span of three days but it was constantly hanging over my head. It wasn't the completely carefree weekend that I had been looking forward to. (There is a major silver lining regarding this motion: the documents that the motion attempts to exclude, the documents that are  the smoking gun of our defense...we didn't even know they existed until we read opposing counsel's motion! The motion was a gift from them in more ways than one.)

When I wasn't scouring Westlaw for obscure case law from all across this great country, I managed to have a mostly laid-back, fun weekend. Despite the ever-strong pull of the couch, I managed to get some running in. I am so relieved that it is no longer like pulling teeth to get my body to run five consecutive miles. I can even run below 8:00 mile pace. I'd eventually like to run another half-marathon but I still have a ways to go. I have to be able to belt out 10 consecutive miles without pushing myself too hard before I will sign up for a half. So yeah, I need to be able to double my workout.

My favorite thing about weekends is waking up slowly and lounging with my favorite men:

I took the kids to Chuck E Cheese on Saturday. I love that place. It's like my version of a casino. I absolutely hate casinos and gambling because I hate losing money. But at Chuck E Cheese, you can always win a ticket! After many trips to CEC, I've totally learned how to game the system. Literally. There is one game in particular that I've completely mastered (e.g. I've memorized the timing of the spinning lights) so I am guaranteed to be a "big" winner (12 tickets per coin!). I'm so very proud of my skills. I'm pretty sure I just rewrote the definition of the word "pathetic." But that's ok.

Sunday I met up with my sister and we took the kids to the YMCA pool. Ryan lasted 30 minutes before the bluish color of his lips began to alarm me. Jacob continued to splash with his aunt while we watched from the warmer sidelines. The pool is heated but it is still never warm enough for my liking. We then enjoyed a relaxed late lunch fireside at Panera. Even when our weekends don't involve anything thrilling, I absolutely enjoy just spending time with my kids outside of the house. I just love soaking up my time with them over the chores and errands and other mundane tasks.

One sign it is the weekend: Jacob is perpetually pant-less.

We laid low on Monday. I don't think I even changed out of my pajamas or left the house. Along those lines, I didn't blow dry my hair once over the weekend. I never put on anything more fancy than yoga pants and I don't think I even put on a bra! And I took naps each day. That part was fantastic. I didn't even mind billing hours from my own couch because I knew I could close the laptop every once in a while to "rest my eyes." Which I did. Trust me.

These guys took lots of naps too:

On a different note, tonight is our six year elopement-versary. I can't believe it's been six years. That's incredible to me. We celebrated by sharing some Taco-flavored chips while being Jacob's Dinner Enforcement and picking up all the food Ryan kept flinging onto the floor. We're so romantic....honestly though, we pride ourselves in being very low-maintenance and low-expectations people. We don't feel compelled to pamper ourselves often. Maybe sometime next month we will plan a dinner date. Or, if the gravitational pull of the couch is stronger, maybe we won't.

All Play

My morning started promptly at 6:50 a.m. when Jacob bursted into our room and screamed, "Ryan's diaper came off!" I graciously, rolled over and pretended to sleep while my husband got up and did the dirty work. Which apparently involved wiping baby shit off the following: a baby, that baby's pjs, crib sheets, and a crib mattress. My husband put the baby to bed last night without pants on (while Jacob and I had an impromptu mommy-son date at the nearby Planetarium--seriously, it is within walking distance, I love my city!-- followed by Slurpees from the 7/11, also within walking distance). The only thing I can imagine is that Ryan took his diaper off on his own? The mystery of the nudist baby!

After that I couldn't really sleep. So I pulled myself out of bed and started my day with the kids. I made breakfast, surface-cleaned some of the house, outlined our meals for the week (thanks, Pinterest!), and then went on a five mile run, all before 10:00 a.m.!

All week long, the radio stations had been forecasting an 80 degree day, very rare for an early May in the Pacific Northwest. We decided to take advantage of the sun with our first inaugural zoo trip of the year. We have been members since Jacob was born and it was one of the best decisions we have made as far as family weekend entertainment goes. When I was a kid, zoo trips were so rare. My kids are lucky enough to go to the zoo at least once a month during spring and summer.

There are so many things to do at the zoo that, many times, we don't even bother to see any animals. Today was one of those days. Aside from touching the stingrays in the new stingray exhibit, we didn't see a single animal. And it didn't matter. Because today was absolutely perfect.

Our first stop was Stingray Cove to touch the stingrays. Jacob wouldn't touch them on his own and made me hold his hand so we could both touch them together. Ryan was more brave and dove right in for the stingrays.

When we had our fill of stingrays, we bought some overpriced popsicles and enjoyed the sun. Watching Ryan eat his popsicle wa hilarious. First he held it the wrong way.

Then he grabbed the sides with two hands.

When his hands became cold, he dramatically flung the popsicle down. Only to forget that it was cold and attempt to eat it once again.

 

Finally got it right

 

 

Jacob, who thinks every kid he meets is his new friend, started to play with bubbles and drew a flock of children. Before I knew it, I was in the center of the flock helping them blow bubbles and leading an intense game of bubble chase. I never feel more satisfied than when I am playing with a group of children and leading children's activities. This is in stark contrast to the extreme discomfrot I feel whenever I have to take charge in a room full of lawyers. There is something so wonderful about children. They thrive off of attention, they crave it. Give kids just a little of yourself and they give back twice as much. They never make you feel inadequate or stupid. They will always accept you. That is the magical world that they live in. I wish I could live there too.

As one by one the children left to meet back up with their families, Jacob would call out after them, "Bye, come back soon! See you next time!" Gah, I love that kid.

Nap time on mommy

 

 

Me in my pasty-white glory (aka my Seattle tan)

Next we played in the fountain park. Learning from past experienced, I had come prepared with swim diapers and swimsuits. Both kids loved the fountain park. Jacob made more new friends and Ryan garnered a large set of adoring fans. Ryan was the only baby in the fountain park and the other parents got a kick out of watching him keep up with the big kids as he scooted around on one knee.

Ok mom, I'm going to get wet now. Bye!

 



Ryan chased fountains all over the park. He wold reach a fountain just in time for it to stop shooting then he would hold his hand out in a desperate attempt to "catch" the stream of water. Eventually another fountain would catch his attention and he would be off to try that one. The water was fa-reezing! Somehow, neither of the kids minded.

At the zoo park, I was shocked at the germophobia of all the parents around me. All I heard was "don't touch that!" and "don't drink the water, it's not filtered," and "you're getting your hands wet," and "come get some sanitizer." Seriously parents! Chill! It's a PARK! The only thing parents are supposed to do (aside from play) is prevent kids from breaking their arms or the arms of other kids. I will never get why some people insist on living in a sterile environment. Makes no sense at all. Life is messy! And what's so wrong with dirt? It's just little pieces of the earth.

After a while, I dried Ryan off with his big brother's shirt and let Jacob air-dry on the playground. Jacob buzzed around all over the big toys while I walked Ryan around. I say this about every age of babyhood but...I absolutely love the phase where toddlers will grasp your finger as they walk awkwardly all over the earth. As I walked with my toddling baby across the zoo, I felt that my heart was going to burst with happiness. I love holding this guy's hand. If it meant holding his hand and being right there for his every step, I would wish for him to never walk on his own.

Like his big brother, Ryan is quite an expert on the big toys. He may not be able to walk but he can climb up and go down the toddler slide all by himself. He will sit on the top of the slide and swing his big head forward until gravity kicks him and pulls him down.

He was a big fan of this hippo as well

 



We finally had enough of the zoo (or at least I had enough of watching Ryan go down the slide repeatedly) and we trekked the one mile back to the car. The zoo was packed when we arrived so we had to park very far away. I survived the day only thanks to this amazing thing:

My double jogger makes me life so easy. I love this thing!

Our trip home was just as eventful as the zoo trip itself. Even though I made him pee before we left, five minutes into our car ride Jacob told me that he had to pee. He made a pained face, danced in his booster seat and gripped painfully at his crotch. I figured he wasn't bluffing. As we stopped at an intersection, surrounded by cars on every side, I handed him an empty water bottle and let him pee in it. Sadly, this is not that rare of an event for us.

I got my payback later in the trip. When Jacob complained of being thirsty on our way home, I handed him a new water bottle. One swig in, I gasped and told him he was drinking the pee. Oh man, I'm such a bad mommy. But his face was priceless.

When I stopped at the mall to run a quick errand, Jacob did his pee dance again. I walked him to the bathroom only to discover that they had moved the restrooms! Since I had no other option but to walk halfway across the mall again, I rushed Jacob out the nearest exit and pointed him to a semi-concealed bush. A security guard was standing just five feet away but luckily did not notice a thing.

PHEW. Our trips are never dull!

Amazing days like today tempt me into thinking that, if only I didn't have to work, every day could be this awesome. But even as those thoughts enter my mind, I immediately recognize that I know better. I already know from my maternity days that if I were a stay-at-home mom, I would miss using my lawyer brain. I would miss the other type of satisfication in my life, the kind that only comes from a challenging and rewarding career. As much as I love being with my kids all day and as much as I love playing "stay-at-home mom," I know that it just isn't for me. There are two parts of me that need to feel fulfilled. Staying at home would only fulfill one of them. I would have the same problem if I chose to only focus on my career without starting a family.

I know being a mother is a selfless and constant role. It never ends. You can never parent "enough." There will always be needs to meet and duties to fulfill in one's role as a parent. Sometimes I feel conflicted in my desire to do something outside the home and my desire to give everything selflessly to my children. I know I haven't solved this conflict yet and I don't even know if there is an answer. All I know is that my kids are happy and healthy and loved. They are not lacking in anything. And I am also happy and healthy and loved on top of feeling challenged and full. Sure, there is a lot of stress and frustration and worry in the mix as well. But at the end of the day, that is just minor collateral damage.

I honestly feel a deep satisfaction in my role as a working mommy. In this, I have come a long way. My blog posts from when Jacob was a baby are dripping in anxiety and mommy guilt. I sure haven't found a "balance," since then but I have learned from my own experience that my kids are not lacking in love and care simply because I have a career. In fact, I'm pretty sure that all value our time together even more because of it.